Bodyguard | Heesun

11

Heeseung wasn't lying when he affirmed being a light sleeper.

The first sound that woke him up had been very faint, probably coming from the corridor, outside, because the moment he opens his eyes, it is silent again. He turns his head toward the night table, reaching for his phone. 6:04 a.m.

He slept thirty minutes. Great. Better than nothing, he thinks. He slaps the phone back against the wooden surface, letting his head fall into the cushion.

It's only when he closes his eyes again that he hears another sound—this time, he understands what it is. Sunoo. Turning over to lie on his back, Heeseung stares at the ceiling, focusing and listening. Another groan is heard, and it isn't alarming, far from that—it simply sounds like he's sleeping, and probably deep into a dream. So, Heeseung lets his eyelids fall, his chest rise and drop slowly, trying to not let another thousand thoughts fill his mind and prevent him from joining Morpheus' arms.

But at the same time, the same images come back haunting him. That disturbing smile, that pet name thrown in between nonsense and vulgar remarks. The terror in Sunoo's eyes, the tremors his body went through before his legs gave up.

"Why do you think I've had so many bodyguards in such short time? They get what they want, and they leave."

Heeseung's eyebrows crease, his fists tightening and his nails digging into his palms. He could have asked everything that went through his mind— how long has it been? how many were they? how far did they go? why did nobody do any damn thing to protect you?

However, he is no one to be fishing for bits and pieces of a past that is undeniably traumatizing, not when the simple thought of it makes Sunoo unable to even stand and talk properly. Not when the past has such a terrible effect on him.

With a heavy sigh, Heeseung reaches for his phone again and unlocks it to check if Sunghoon has responded to his text. It was a simple one, where he explains he's searching for a trustworthy locksmith to either replace a keypad or change its code, and he hasn't forgotten to add that it is for a private matter. Sunghoon should understand. The message, although distributed, hasn't yet been read, and Heeseung believes that Sunghoon hasn't yet opened his phone. It isn't that they're in such a hurry; after all, Heeseung suggested staying for a reason. That would easily buy them a day or two, until—

"LET ME GO!"

The piercing scream shatters the silence of the apartment.

Heeseung's heart drops to his feet and leaps back into his throat as he jumps out of the bed like an immediate and instinctive response, throwing the sheets along with his phone somewhere behind him.

His vision is blurry from the rapidity with which he stood up, his heartbeat bursting into his eardrums when he hears Sunoo's voice, Sunoo's screams, Sunoo's cries.

It's so desperate, so loud, and it sounds like he's struggling to defend himself with how short his breathing is.

Did someone enter?

How the fuck did someone enter!?

It's only been thirty minutes; thirty fucking minutes, that man shouldn't have come back. He shouldn't have, Heeseung has seen him leave, has seen the car drive away. He hasn't heard a thing, hasn't woken up from anything. And yet—

"P—Please, let me go! Don't—touch me!"

Heeseung almost misses breaking the door when he barges into the bedroom, his veins pulsing and burning inside, and when he's about to rush to help Sunoo, his breath gets caught inside his throat.